


Listen to the Rhythm of your Heart

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Drunk Shiro, Drunkenness, Gen, Keith did nothing to deserve this, Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 21:08:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8117638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster
Summary: Kink Meme Fill:"As leader of team Voltron, Shiro has to share a ceremonial drink with the leader of an alien town/village. Problem is, it turns out that what is more or less just a slightly soothing tea to these aliens is like the most potent alcohol ever to humans.And now the Black Paladin, leader of team Voltron, is drunk off his ass.[...]"Alternate Title: Your Grace is Wasted II: Alcoholic Boogaloo





	

It had been twenty minutes since Shiro had left.

Keith eyed the fabric separating the VIP section with the rest of the drinking hall. And while they’d called it a ‘drinking hall’, he personally thought it was more like a club. There was music and dancing and lots of dark corners to press partners into, and yeah, Keith did not want to be here. Not even a little.

And it had been twenty minutes. They were just supposed to go share a cup of what had basically sounded like tea, to celebrate the plan that had successfully driven out the remaining Galra from this planet. Shiro had said it would take five minutes, and it had been _twenty_.

“Okay, you need to relax,” Hunk muttered, resting a hand on Keith’s shoulder. As if to highlight that, Keith tensed more. “No, really, calm down. They went to talk. You look like you’re about to storm the place down. If something was wrong, we’d hear it. Last I checked, drapey fabric isn’t soundproof.

Keith scowled, but he had to admit that was a good point. Glancing up a Hunk, he frowned. “You don’t have a bad feeling?” They’d long since admitted that Hunk had a sixth sense for intentions, even if it seemed to crop up at the worst times.

Nodding agreeably, Hunk patted his back. “Nope, everything is all good.” Then he gave Keith a smirk. “And welcome to my life, dude. Like, all the time. Except I’m right and you’re wrong.”

“Thanks,” Keith replied, desert dry, but he nodded. “You’re probably right. We would hear it, yeah.”

“Good. Now, c’mon, come sit with me. Shiro made me promise I wouldn’t let Lance drink anything that isn’t water, and that’s easier to do with you distracting him from making plans.”

Letting himself be led, Keith frowned. “But what if it’s like vodka? We wouldn’t be able to tell.”

“First of all, have you ever been around vodka? I don’t care how odorless and tasteless it’s supposed to be, it’s still alcohol. Secondly, don’t give me nightmares.” Hunk shuddered and shook his head. “Lance is bad enough with beer.”

They sat back down at the table the paladins had claimed, though Keith did keep glancing back at the VIP section. Snorting, Pidge nudged him in the side. “You look like a guard dog,” she told him.

“I think I might feel like one,” Keith replied slowly, thinking it over. To distract himself, he glanced over at the dance floor, which was full of aliens enjoying the music. It wasn’t anything organized, from what he could tell, and instead more like a mish-mash of everyone doing their own thing. He did notice a lot of them seemed to have twirls, which made the draped, shawl-like clothing they prefered spin out wildly.

Leaning into his line of sight, Lance grinned. “Fun, right? Three of them already asked me to dance.” He smirked, like that was one of their competitions and Keith was falling behind.

Except that was definitely not one he’d want to be part of. Keith crinkled his nose and frowned. “Why?”

Lance’s eyes went side, and it took a second for Keith to realize he thought he’d meant ‘why would they want to dance with you?’ and not ‘why would you want to dance?’. “You’re just mad you’re losing.”

“Losing at what?” Keith shot back, bristling. “I don’t want to be asked to dance! I don’t want to dance at all, it’s awful.”

Shoving his hand between them, Hunk groaned. “No, no way. Please don’t start. Besides, you’re wrong. Like, objectively. Dancing is awesome. And universal! How cool is that?”

As cool as dancing, which was not at all. Before Keith could tell Hunk that, there was a loud thumping noise from the VIP section. All thoughts of the subject fell away, and Keith spun in place, already tense again.

“Sounds like someone fell,” Pidge noted, leaning her chin on her palm. “That happens sometimes. Especially in party atmospheres.” Then she paused. “I assume. I never really went to the drinks kind of party, mostly the video games and goodie bags kind.” Tilting her head, she looked at Lance for confirmation.

He nodded sagely, sipping his better-be-water. “Oh, yeah, happens all the time, in my experience.”

Pidge stared at him, then snorted loudly. “Right, I don’t know why I asked you.”

“Hey, I’ve been to tons of parties!” Lance insisted, but it was mostly good natured.

“Right,” she drawled in return, brows raised. Before Pidge could continue to needle, there was a commotion behind the fabric, which then parted.

The leader of the aliens and her second in command were both laughing as they dragged Shiro out, supporting his limp body on either side.

Keith was on his feet immediately, drawing his bayard. The room went quiet, aside from the music from the appearance of the weapon. “What did you do to him?”

“Do to who?” Shiro muttered, picking his head up. He glanced from the sword to Keith, then furrowed his brow. “Somethin’ happen?”

Even if he hadn’t been slurring badly, Keith would have been suspicious from the slow, heavy movements. Gritting his teeth, he took another step forward, aware of the others tensing behind him. “What did you _do_?”

Laughing, the leader, Anita, shook her head, making the thick, solid braids on her head shake. “Hey, now, no need to be like that. We just had a quick drink and a chat.” She glanced down and gave Shiro a gently shake. “Seems it may have been just a bit intoxicating to your leader, here. Apologies. He’ll be fine in the morning.”

“Again?” Hunk muttered quietly, and Keith heard him take his seat.

Lance chuckled. “Again! Looks just drunk to me. And we’ve established I’m the expert.”

Keith turned back and frowned, relaxing reluctantly when no one else seemed to be bothered. Pidge shot him a shrug, but then her eyes went wide. Spinning, Keith didn’t have time to do more than brace himself before something collided into his shoulder.

It was Shiro, who wrapped his arms around Keith and pressed his face into his hair. “Hi,” he greeted, as if this were a normal, everyday occurrence.

“I think you’re all settled now,” Anita said, laughter in her voice. “We’ll leave him with you all. Feel free to crash here tonight, if need be.”

Shiro picked his head up and rested it on top of Keith’s head, not shifting his grip at all. “But we were doing talks. Should I stay?”

There was a quiet snort from the fabric, and Allura eyed them all from where she had popped her head out. “I think we can handle it from here. Thank you for joining us, Shiro.” Catching Keith’s look, she smiled. “I can confirm that he should be fine. I’m aware of the drink, and while it’s mild to myself, but it seemed to do more for Shiro.”

Slowly, Keith relaxed, though he still eyed Anita darkly, not sure she hadn’t wanted Shiro drunk for some purpose or another, none of them good. But she was already turning and heading back into the sectioned off area, leaving them to deal with their leader turned octopus.

From the way Shiro was still contentedly holding on, he either didn’t mind or had completely forgotten about the talks. Keith put the bayard away to be sure Shiro wouldn’t hurt himself on it, then started as both Shiro’s hands cupped his jaw and pulled him upward, until they were nearly nose to nose. “Hi,” Shiro repeated.

“Hi,” Keith parroted, amused despite himself. He’d never seen Shiro drunk before the Kerberos mission, and he had the feeling it was mostly because Shiro had tried to be responsible around him.

And he tried it now, too, but it was a little hard to do in space, since apparently there was just alcoholic drinks that messed with only humans.

Still cupping his face, Shiro’s expression sobered as he looked down like he was searching for something. Then, suddenly, he sniffled. “Look at you.”

Brow furrowing, Keith stared back. “Look at what?”

“You,” Shiro replied, and oh no, his expression was crumpling. Shooting a panicked look at the others, he only got three equally confused looks back. “You’ve come so far. I’m just... I’m so _proud_ of you.”

Oh. Uh oh.

Sniffling, Shiro rested his forehead on Keith’s. “You’ve done so much and you’ve become an even better pilot. And you have friends! I was so worried when I left, but now you’re doing so good. Even if you were a desert hobo for a while.”

 _Oh no_.

Somewhere behind him, Keith heard Lance mutter “oh my god.” He sounded nothing but delighted.

“Um,” Keith started, casting desperately for something that would make Shiro _shut up_. “You wanna sit down before you fall over?” Shiro nodded without picking his head up, though he seemed remarkably stable. “Here, we’ll just... step with me, okay?”

Shiro moved with him like they were dancing, shuffling their feet until Keith could sit down in his chair again. And instead of get his own, Shiro went down with him, still wrapped around Keith’s shoulders like a limpet. Resting his temple on Keith’s hair, he shot the others a sunny smile. “Hey.”

“Hey there,” Hunk replied easily, as if he wasn’t clearly a second from bursting into laughter. At least he could talk, which seemed beyond Lance, for once. “How are you feeling?”

Shiro seemed to consider that seriously. “M’good.” He shifted, pressing his nose into Keith’s hair, then pulled back with a frown. Reaching up, he started to comb through with his fingers. “Do you want to borrow my shampoo?”

That was too much for Lance, who burst into cackles, falling face down on the table. “I love today,” he giggled, muffled into the wood.

Blinking at him, Shiro tilted his head but smiled, looking like he wasn’t sure if he should have caught the joke too. “Good. We should come back here, sometime. I like Anita. She’s nice.” He paused, voice going low, like he was sharing a secret. “I think she likes Allura.”

Pidge’s eyes went wide and she glanced back at the fabric. “Really? Should we be... not leaving her alone with Allura?”

Shiro snorted. “Nah, there’s other people there. And Allura would just kick her ass.” He paused, considering. “I’d watch Allura kick her ass.”

“Same,” Lance intoned, finally picking his head up. He gave Keith a toothy, shark-like grin. “Hey, Shiro, why are you proud of Keith?”

Keith was going to _kill_ him later.

Slumping right back over, Shiro squeezed Keith tighter, drawing him close until Keith was practically tucked into his chest. And honestly, he could take all the cuddling well enough if it hadn’t been for the damn context. “He used to be so... I think you only liked me, and you thought I was so cool. Keith. Keith, I’m not cool. You were so wrong. But you only listened to me so I tried so hard to be cool for you, and you followed me around all the time and it was so nice, Keith.” Shiro rocked them gently from side to side. “But now you have more friends. Three of them! You did so good.”

Keith took a deep breath, then gently pushed at Shiro’s chest. “Please never get drunk again.”

“Please be drunk forever,” Pidge replied dryly. “This is gold.”

Okay, no, he was going to kill all of them later.

Pulling back, Shiro’s bottom lip stuck out mournfully, making him look younger than them rather than their leader. “Do you not want me hugging you?” He asked, sad and resigned.

“Um,” Keith replied, completely at a loss for what to say. Because he didn’t want it right now, only because of what lead up to it. But how did he get that across to Shiro in his current state?

Before he could figure it out, Lance pushed out from the table and held out his arms. “Shiro, baby, I want you hugging me. Pick me instead.”

“Baby?” Shiro’s nose crinkled in clear distaste, but he did hop up and settled against Lance instead. Keith frowned at the sudden cold and having the chance to explain himself taken away, but at least Shiro didn’t seem sad anymore. Instead he was resting contentedly, lips curled up. “Am I heavy?”

Lance laughed. “Oh yeah. But it’s okay, you should stay here anyway.” Shiro just nodded and closed his eyes, forehead against Lance’s temple. “You look like you’re having a pretty good time. Maybe we should get you another drink. And one for me to.”

Rearing back suddenly, Shiro scowled. Or, it was probably supposed to be a scowl. It came across as more of an especially ruffled pout. “No. Bad. No drinks.”

“Aww,” Lance whined, though from the way he was grinning he didn’t actually seem to mind. More likely, he was just enjoying rilling Shiro up. “You sure?”

Nodding, Shiro frowned. “Yes. No drinks.” He pointed at Lance’s face to punctuate his point. But then he seemed to get distracted, and tapped Lance on the nose instead, lips curling up.

Lance nodded solemnly. “Okay, no drinks. But you have to dance with me instead. That’s the rules”

“That’s a false equivalency if I ever heard one,” Hunk remarked, then yelped as Lance flapped a hand in his face. “Hey, it is!”

“Shut up, dude,” Lance hissed, then turned back to Shiro, back to serious. “You can’t break the rules, can you?”

Shiro laughed. “I break lots of rules. Like ‘don’t sneak out in the bikes after lockdown’.” That made Lance’s eyes light up in interest, but then he nodded. “Okay.”

For a moment, Lance stilled, like he’d never expected that to work. “Okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll dance.” He hopped up so Lance could stand. Glancing into some of the darker corners, he frowned. “Not like that. Just fun dancing.”

Laughing, Lance grabbed a handful of Shiro’s shirt and tugged him along. “Aww, but there’s nothing wrong with a little bump and grind.”

Shiro rumbled out some kind of low, confused reply to that, but it was too indistinct to make out in the murmur of the crowd. Watching them go, Keith sighed and scrubbed his face. “That’s a terrible idea.”

Brows up, Pidge nodded. “I know. We don’t have any cameras.”

“Not what I meant,” Keith grumbled.

Hunk nodded. “Yeah, he can barely talk, he’s gunna hurt himself.” They all watched as Lance pulled Shiro into a spin to match the aliens around him. But rather than wobble, Shiro moved smoothly, seemingly unaffected. Instead, he scooped Lance up by the waist and swung him around, making them both laugh a bit too loudly. “Oh, or not. Seems like he’s good.”

Watching them weave through the dance floor, Pidge, wrinkled her nose. “That’s actually really annoying. Even when he’s drunk?”

“He took lessons forever,” Keith replied, resting his chin on his palm and watching blindly as Shiro tried to dip Lance, who was giggling too hard to stay still enough. “And also it’s Shiro.”

Eventually, it did end predictably. During one of their stunts, Lance jumped up faster than Shiro was ready for, and pushed back too far away, and practically launched himself into one of the other dancers. The pair of them burst into laughter, which didn’t help soothe the alien’s ruffled feathers, but they did make their retreat back to the table, Lance cackling into Shiro’s chest.

“We need to do this every mission,” Lance sighed, still out of breath.

Once they were seated again, Shiro seemed to sober, and he eyed Pidge. She stared back, slowly tensing, and Keith glanced between them, not sure what was going on. Then, Shiro spoke. “Pidge. _Pidge_. Katie?” The intensity of the moment wavered as he paused, brow furrowed, but then he snapped his focus back onto her. “Pidge.”

Swallowing, Pidge straightened and met him head on, like she was preparing for something painful. For a long moment, Keith wasn’t sure what - Shiro was drunk but essentially harmless - but then he realized she probably thought he was going to talk about Kerberos and her family. “Yes?”

“You... You’re so _small_.” Shiro stared at her, gaze still deeply intense, and Pidge blinked back like he’d slapped her. “You are _so_ small. Are you okay? Is it scary to be that small? What if we lose you? I can’t lose you, but I can’t see you sometimes.”

Mouth opening, Pidge let out a choked, unsure noise. She let out a noise that was very nearly a giggle, but then glared. “I am not.”

Shiro shook his head. “You are! You’re tiny. You have such lil’ wrists. How do you hold things?” He reached out, cupping her wrists and gently jerking them around. Pidge didn’t look like she knew if she wanted to punch him or laugh. “Tiny! I worry. Are they structurally sound? Should we get you gloves? Would that help?”

“I’ve managed so far,” Pidge replied, finally cracking another smile. “I think it’ll be okay.”

But Shiro didn’t seem to really be listening. “Do you get cold? Keith used to get cold a lot. Then he got the jacket and it was better. But you only have the short sleeves. What if we got you a jacket?”

“I can make a jacket on the ship,” Pidge pointed out. Finally, she gently pulled her arms back until Shiro let go, then patted him on the shoulder. “I’m okay right now, I’ll let you know if I’m not.” Then she glanced over at Keith, shooting him a look of pure sympathy, and he nodded back. Yeah. It was weird. Lance might think it was the best thing ever, but Keith didn’t like watching Shiro act strangely, especially when he was going to regret it later.

Contented with Pidge’s response, Shiro nodded agreeably, then slumped sideways. He landed on Hunk and beamed up at him. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Hunk replied, seemly not bothered by Shiro’s new habit of greeting people. “Are you having fun?”

Humming, Shiro nodded. “Yeah.” He considered, then looked up at Hunk. “You smell the best.”

Hunk blinked, then smiled, looking honestly pleased at the compliment. “Yeah? Thanks.”

“Wait, why does he smell best?” Lance asked, lips pulling down in a pout. 

Shrugging, Shiro closed his eyes. “Because he smells nicest. You smell like flowers. Not bad flowers, but I like Hunk better.”

Lance made a wounded noise and clutched at his chest. “Betrayed.”

“I was coming for your title,” Hunk told Lance, all bland sarcasm. “I have finally surpassed you.”

Shiro snickered and buried his face in Hunk’s shoulder. “Hunk, you’re the best. You’re my best cadet.”

Whooping, Hunk pumped the arm that didn’t have Shiro leaning against it. “I want that on a t-shirt. I want it in writing.” Then he considered and glanced down. “Best. Not favorite? Best is a weird way to put it.”

“You’re the best. You’re the good-est. Least trouble, most help, smells best.” He glanced up. “But Pidge is my favorite. She’s so small, Hunk. I have to look out for her. What if she gets a cold?”

“I’d go in the damn pod,” Pidge grumbled, now scowling. “This is getting old.”

Lance snorted. “At least you’re the favorite. Keith and I are out in the cold.”

Much as Keith wanted to protest, because he’d known Shiro longest, he couldn’t necessarily disagree with him either. Hunk was the ‘good-est’, easily, and Pidge did get special attention from everyone, whether she needed it or not. Still, it wasn’t exactly nice to hear, either.

Picking his head up, Shiro glanced between them all, eyes going slowly wide and sad. “Oh. But I love everyone. Really, I love you guys. You’re my team.” He held out his arms. “Do you need a hug?”

“Not really,” Keith replied, at the same moment Lance nodded and gave a dramatic, “Yes!”

Getting up from Hunk’s side, and giving him a last hair ruffle on the way out, Shiro circled the table then snagged them both in a hug.

“I said no!” Keith protested, mostly because the action had smushed him into Lance’s side.

Lance just elbowed him, then grinned into Shiro’s shoulder. “Embrace the embrace, dude. Which is... woah, getting heavy. Shiro, buddy, that’s a- oh, shit.”

Shiro went boneless against them, suddenly looking pale. “Uh oh,” he muttered.

Sharing a glance, Keith and Lance both hauled him up and dragged him to the bathroom as fast as they could.

It turned out that when something intoxicated someone nearly immediately, it ran through them pretty quickly too.

Twenty minutes later, they were all back in the castle, settled in the rec room due to its proximity to the kitchen. Keith kept near Shiro, making sure he wasn’t going to start vomiting again, and trying to get him to keep drinking water. Glancing up at him, Shiro frowned. “I’m gunna be mad at myself tomorrow, aren’t I?”

“Oh yeah,” Keith replied, with just a bit of satisfaction. “In more ways than one.”

Shiro nodded pensively. “Yeah.” He gave Keith another one of those strange, wide-eyed looks. “But it’s true. I do love you guys. You’re the best.”

“You’re just saying that because I’m nursing your hungover ass,” Keith muttered, but his lips did quirk up fondly. “And you got to dance.”

That made Shiro pause. “Yeah, a little. It was fun. But I love you regardless of the amount of dancing I get to do.” 

“Thanks,” Keith replied, no longer bothering to fight the smile. “Even if I’m not the favorite.”

Shiro sighed. “You’re all the favorite for different reasons. So there.” Then he paused, looking sickly again. “Um, more water?”

Reaching for the glass, Keith paused when he noticed it had already been drained. Shoot. “Pidge, will you grab another glass?”

“Can’t,” she replied, not even looking up. “My wrists are too tiny, they’ll collapse under the strain.”

Keith sighed. They were going to regret everything Shiro said tonight, he just knew it. “Fine.” Snatching up the glass, he walked to the kitchen.

From the living room, Lance called after him. “You’re such a good boy, Keith! We’re so proud of you!”

As he turned on the faucet, Keith wondered if he had enough time to drown himself in the water before they caught him.

Probably not. Ah, well.

At least tomorrow Shiro would be hurting more than him.

**Author's Note:**

> Want to request something, or just to hear my inane babble? Follow me at Bosstoaster.tumblr.com


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